


everything we've lost (you're the only thing that keeps me alive)

by babyweis



Series: breathing the air of a destroyed world [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Guns, Implied Sexual Content, Insomnia, M/M, Mentions of blood and violence, but at least the ending isnt bad, im sorry, this isnt very happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 00:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12759807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyweis/pseuds/babyweis
Summary: Junhui overthinks and struggles with his feelings, but at least he's still breathing.





	everything we've lost (you're the only thing that keeps me alive)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this thing is literally based off a dream i had like a month ago, and i don't know why i wrote it but here it is now  
> this is also the longest oneshot ive ever written so congrats for me i guess (it's still not even that long lmao)
> 
> please tell me if there is anything that i should tag that i haven't yet! like warnings or anything
> 
> (also yes, this is a part of a series, but it'll probably take like forever for me to upload the next part because my inspiration just comes and goes)

"To the left, left!" Junhui yells, hands gripping tight on Mingyu's waist as the younger goes in for a quick turn, his long legs kicking the ground to stop the bike from toppling over. Struggling to keep himself sitting straight in the back, Junhui winces and glances back as they enter the narrow street. "They're getting closer."

The only thing Mingyu responds with is a breathy "fuck", and then another, much louder, " _shit_." Junhui moves his gaze to the front again, peeking from behind Mingyu's back, just in time to see the fence before Mingyu stops. He stumbles down, scraping his knees and palms of his hands on the harsh asfalt, the backbag almost slipping off his shoulders.

"We have to leave the bike, and climb over, hyung be quick," Mingyu rambles as he pulls Junhui up. The latter nods, gritting his teeth together as he makes his way to the fence. It's a bit higher than his height, but he manages to pull himself on top of it. He gives his hand out for Mingyu to grab and pulls the younger up, and then they go down to the other side, almost toppling over each other but managing to keep their balance on the last minute. Junhui sees, from the corner of his eye, how the group of people reaches the fence, and he digs his nails on Mingyu's wrist as they run.

"We...we can't lead them home," he pants, and Mingyu doesn't respond but he knows he heard him. The younger is already exhausted after cycling as fast as he can, and Junhui feels bad, but they can't slow down. That would cost the food they managed to stuff the bag with, and, in the worst situations, their lives.

Junhui's life isn't really that enjoyable, but maybe it's still better than dying a slow and painful death in the hands of people he doesn't know.

And he needs to look after Mingyu. And bring food to the others. It's been a rough month.

They run to a different direction, to streets they don't really know, and at times Junhui worries that they'll run into another group of strangers, but the city seems quiet. Quiet enough for them to slip into a worn out building from an open doorway and finally stop running.

Junhui collapses onto the floor, his legs giving out underneath him. He lets the bag slip off his shoulders, but still keeps a tight grip on the strap as he rolls to his back. Mingyu is next to him, so close that Junhui can see how his hands tremble when he wipes the sweat off his forehead and pushes his hair back.

"We should've been home like hours ago," Mingyu says after a while of them just lying there and breathing, voice heavy and strained. He turns his head to look at Junhui. "The others must be worried."

"Yeah," Junhui replies, "and it's getting dark."

It's obvious they should leave, because it's dangerous to move at night, and very cold, too. However, Junhui's not even sure if he can get up from the floor with his sore muscles, and Mingyu doesn't look any better.

"Let's wait just a little more," Junhui says, and Mingyu nods, giving him a thankful look before closing his eyes. Silence falls over them again, over the entire city. Junhui tries to remember what it sounded like when everything was still normal. He can't, but then again, he was only five back then. He can't even remember his parents' voices.

He knows Mingyu does. His family was killed two years ago, just before Seungcheol found him and brought him to their house.

Junhui remembers that. He remembers the boy with blood on his hands, clothes and face, with wide and glossy eyes.

"It's my sister's blood," was the first thing Mingyu ever said to him, and Junhui had been so dumbfounded and kind of freaked out that he wasn't able to say anything in return.

Later Seungcheol told them that he'd found Mingyu dragging his sister's already lifeless body while crying and telling her to hold on, to stay awake just a little longer.

She was ten. Mingyu was sixteen. Junhui was seventeen, and it was the first time he cried over someone else's story.

Now Mingyu is eighteen, a tall young man with a gorgeous smile and twinkling eyes. Junhui is nineteen, and it's the first time he has realized he's in love with somebody. He hopes it will also be the last.

The sun is setting, and Junhui forces himself to get up from the floor, nudging Mingyu's side with the tip of his shoe. Mingyu whines about his sore muscles but gets up anyway, throwing an arm around Junhui's shoulders as they leave the empty building.

"To keep both of us warm," he says, and Junhui grins at him and presses even closer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
"It's been getting colder," Jisoo says as they watch Seungcheol sharing the pieces of bread to the others. "We need to get more food and more blankets, or really anything to keep warm."

Junhui nods. He knows all of that, and Jisoo knows that he knows, because it's an annual thing they have to go through. And every year, it gets harder, because there are so many other groups in the city who also need those things. The food Seungcheol is giving out to others, the food from Junhui's backbag, it had been stolen from another group. Junhui doesn't feel bad; it's a must to do if they want to stay alive. Those people should've guarded their storages better.

Their group includes ten people, all of them being coincidentally young boys. They live in an abandoned bar - almost all buildings are abandoned nowadays - that also has a three-room apartment on the second floor. The Han river runs by the park that's a ten-minute walk away from there. Compared to many others, they live well.

At least, compared to many others living on their side of the city; living outside of the walls of the city centre.

The walls were build just before Junhui's parents passed away. You were allowed to live inside the walls if you had the money for it, and the will to do just as the government says. The same situation is in all of the biggest cities of South Korea, and Junhui has heard there are similar happenings in other countries as well.

The people living outside of the walls have been left to survive by themselves. They have formed groups, their own teams, to stay alive, and any other people they meet are enemies that are going to steal your food and possibly kill you afterwards. Sometimes Junhui wonders why they're going against each other, when the actual enemies who have left them to die are living inside the walls. He guesses they just don't have any strength to even hope for better.

"Have you ever though of leaving Seoul?" Junhui asks, when Seungcheol has given him his share of food and goes to sit on the other side of the room. Jisoo looks at him. "Of course I have," he says. "But it's the same everywhere. And it would be dangerous to go to an unknown city, where we don't know the places or rules."

Junhui nods. He turns his head to look at the counter where Mingyu is sitting on one of the old stools, already finished eating. He's talking about something with Hansol, their voices lowered but hand gestures wild. Seungkwan sits next to Hansol, drawing patterns with his finger on the other's shoulder as he listens to the two.

"You should eat," Jisoo speaks up again. "We can't afford you fainting."

Junhui snorts and tears his gaze away from the counter. "Yeah, I know."

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Winter strikes with full force only two weeks later. First, it snows for four days straight, and then the temperature drops. It's colder than Junhui ever remembers being, and it's only November.

They have brought all of their mattresses, covers and blankets, even most of their clothes, to the combined kitchen and living room in the apartment upstairs. They use towels to seal the windows, and Seungcheol makes a fireplace to the corner of the room, a hole big enough on the ceiling for the smoke to escape. Jihoon has made some kind of a filter on the hole to keep out the snow, and Junhui has no idea how it works, but it does, and that's all that matters.

It's late, probably a few hours past midnight. There is no fire that night, because they have to save wood. Junhui is lying on his side, huddled under three blankets. There is no one behind him, because he doesn't catch a cold easily unlike many others.

Mingyu is sleeping next to him, under the same blankets, Chan sleeping on his other side. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are slightly flushed of the cold, but the small puffs of breath against Junhui's cheek are warm. Junhui stares at him in the darkness of the room and thinks.

He thinks of Hansol and Seungkwan, how the two of them are cuddling close to each other on the other side of their "bed", how they share goodnight kisses every night before going to sleep. The dark circles under Seungkwan's eyes have been getting worse, and he's so, _so pale_. Junhui thinks of how any morning, Hansol could wake up to find out his lover died in his arms last night.

Seungkwan is like family to Junhui, too, just like everyone else, and he's terrified of the fact that he could leave them any day. He wonders how Hansol still manages to smile so brightly.

 _Because he loves Kwannie,_ Junhui thinks. _Because he needs to stay strong for him_.

Junhui thinks of the fact that like any of them, Mingyu could suddenly get sick, too - and how he wouldn't be able to do anything, not even kiss him to give him comfort, because they're not like that. They're not each other's, they're not boyfriends, not lovers, just close like anyone else in their group. Friends, a family. Platonic.

Junhui is on his own, and if he were to die some day, there would be no one missing him the way Hansol would miss Seungkwan, or the way Junhui himself would miss Mingyu. It's kind of a selfish way of thinking, but there, in the middle of the night with Mingyu's lips barely an inch away from his own, Junhui allows himself to be selfish. So selfish, he presses even closer to the younger's body, telling himself that it's just to keep them both warm. And that's true, even though if he were completely honest, it's definitely not the main reason.

Mingyu stirs, suddenly, and Junhui looks at him in alert, holding his breath. It's no use, because the younger opens his eyes, squinting at the darkness before meeting Junhui's eyes. Junhui feels embarrassed, and guilty, even though he hasn't really done anything.

"Hyung," Mingyu says, his groggy voice cutting the cold air, "What time is it?"

"Something like 2 AM, maybe," Junhui whispers his response, lifting his head a little to glance at the others over Mingyu's body. "Be quiet, the others are sleeping."

"Why aren't you?" Mingyu asks, lowering his voice to match Junhui's. "Sleeping, I mean."

"I'm not tired," Junhui says, even though he is, but it's much easier to say that instead of explaining that he's overthinking once again - especially because he's spent most of the time thinking about Mingyu himself.

"Not tired?" Mingyu repeats, and frowns as Junhui nods. He glances down, at the way Junhui is clasping the front of his shirt with his fingers, and Junhui's breath hitches in his throat. "Are you cold?"

"Just a little," Junhui says, and it's true. The night isn't as cold today as they've been in the past week, and he's used to it, anyway. He can sleep even if he's a bit cold. It's not about that - but he doesn't put up a fight when Mingyu wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him closer to himself.

"Those idiots always make you sleep at the edge," Mingyu mumbles, and then slips his other arm under Junhui's head. "Do you want to switch? I can sleep there for a few nights."

"No," Junhui answers, quickly, his heart thumping against his chest way too wildly as he presses his face against Mingyu's neck. "This is good," he whispers. "I'm good."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Hansol slams the door open, and after he has stepped inside along with Chan, takes a quick glance behind and slams it back shut. Junhui watches in concern how the two youngest boys wipe snow off their clothes, faces flushed and hair messed because of running.

"Was someone following you?" Seungcheol asks, already searching for the handgun from his backpocket as he makes his way to the door, always on alert.

"No, I don't think so," Hansol says, breathless, barely smiling when Seungkwan comes up to him. "But we saw people."

"Are they close to us?" Jihoon asks.

"What kind of people?" Seungcheol asks.

"They, uh," Chan starts, getting rid of his jacket and glancing at Hansol. "They had cars."

"Cars?" Seungcheol repeats, and Chan and Hansol nod in unison. Junhui looks at Jisoo, who's sitting next to him, and the older looks back at him with eyebrows knitted together.

It's been years since they last saw an actual car, one that moves and isn't just abandoned in the middle of the street. Before, the people living inside the walls used to bring food and other supplies from one city to another by cars, but after other people started attacking them, they've settled for trains and small planes.

"And they looked expensive," Hansol adds, wrapping an arm around Seungkwan's waist. "There were at least four. And it was, I don't know, they seemed to be looking for something."

"Where?" Jihoon asks, raising an eyebrow. Chan sighs and sits down. "The other side of the park."

"That's kind of close," Wonwoo speaks up from where he's half-sitting half-lying down.

"Too close," Jihoon says, and they all turn their heads to look at Seungcheol. The latter sighs and gestures towards the backroom of the bar. "We should probably take our supplies to the second floor and stay there for the rest of the night - and also keep the fire out. I don't think they'll attack us, because they can't be sure how well we're armed, but better safe than sorry."

Junhui bites his lower lip, a habit he does when he's nervous, and watches how everyone makes their way towards the backroom to collect their supplies.

Mingyu stops when he's standing next to him. Their hands brush together. "What do you think they want?"

"I don't know," Junhui answers honestly, brushing Mingyu's hand _by accident_ again before following others to the backroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
They want young and pretty people, to take them inside the walls to sell to the rich.

Jihoon tells it to them three days later after managing to get in touch with another group of people. "They had taken two girls and one boy from them," he says. "They had guns, and lots of men. They said it was better not to fight them."

Junhui tries not to think about what they'll do with them, to them. He has never been religious, but that night, he prays to God no one will be taken away from their group.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Seungkwan is taken away from them, barely two weeks later - not by those men with guns and expensive cars, but by God himself. He's just fine the day before, before they go to sleep; maybe a bit tired, but otherwise fine. Junhui watches, once again, how he shares goodnight kisses with Hansol before they go to bed.

They all woke up the next day at six in the morning to Hansol's broken wailing, and Junhui knows what has happened even before he opens his eyes. He still thinks _no, please, no, it's not happening_ , even when he watches Hansol cradle Seungkwan's body in his arms, crying hysterically.

Junhui hears someone choke out " _oh no_ " behind him, maybe Jisoo, and he feels someone grapping his arm, digging their nails on his skin, but he doesn't react, because he's too busy trying to breathe. He thinks he's crying, but he's not exactly sure, because his body is in a complete shock and he's not able to move, because Seungkwan had been fine yesterday and he wasn't supposed to go yet, not that night, not so suddenly, not without even a goodbye.

Seungcheol and Jisoo are the first ones to go to Hansol and Seungkwan, trembling hands grapping Hansol's shoulders and soothing his hair. The only thing Hansol responds with is a shaky " _No_ ," and something in Junhui's stomach twists.

He barely makes two steps away from their makeshift bed when he's throwing up on the floor, his throat burning and eyes stinging.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They move on, somehow, with Seungcheol and Jihoon forcing everyone to eat and sleep and wash up. When it's May, and Seungkwan hasn't been with them in six full months, and all of the snow has melted away, Junhui feels like he's finally able to breathe.

He thinks Hansol feels the same way, even though he still barely speaks, keeping to himself whenever possible. They all let him be, because they understand. They can't force him to just suddenly get better.

Junhui dips the second bucket into the flowing water of the Han River, nearly falling over when he lifts it back up. It feels heavier than the first one, even though it's just as full. His arms are starting to lose their muscles.

"Need any help with that?" Mingyu asks, a similar bucket in both of his hands, and Junhui flushes. "No," he says, and then somehow manages to heave the bucket in their cart. Some of the water splashes out of it, wetting Junhui's sleeves, and he sighs, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Yeah, right," Mingyu says, hauling the two buckets in the cart too with little to no effort. There's a teasing, playful glint in his eyes, and Junhui just can't help but splash some of the freezing cold water towards him.

Mingyu shrieks, totally unmanly, and Junhui runs, laughter bubbling in his chest when the younger starts chasing after him. The grass is slippery under his old sneakers, wet from the rain that stopped barely an hour ago, and he kicks the shoes off while running. It doesn't slow him down much, just a little bit for a second, but Mingyu is too fast and manages to grab his arm.

They go tumbling down onto the ground, hands grabbing each other's clothes and Junhui kicking Mingyu's legs. They keep on wrestling on the wet grass afterwards, even though Junhui is pretty sure he already has a few bruises on his legs and hips, and Mingyu is panting in exhaustion. And by the time they finally stop, Junhui's cheeks are hurting from laughing so much after such a long time.

"Got you," Mingyu breathes, his hands holding onto Junhui's wrists, his face so close Junhui can see the tiny freckles on his flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous.

"Yeah," Junhui whispers, suddenly very aware of how fast his heart is beating. "You got me."

Mingyu smiles at him, eyes twinkling and sharp teeth peeking from his mouth, and then he leans closer. It's slow, and careful, and their lips brush together just slightly when Mingyu freezes, eyes glued to something in the other side of the park.

"Don't move," he whispers, and Junhui stays still, dizzy and confused. He wants to turn his head to see what is going on, but then Mingyu reaches back and pulls a handgun from his belt. He sits up faster than a lightning, gun pointed to the same direction he's staring at as he yells out, "Stay back!"

Junhui turns his head to the side fast enough to see someone in dark clothes swirl around and run away from his sight. And when he turns his head again to look at Mingyu, the younger has a displeased frown on his face.

"Who was it?" Junhui asks, and only then does Mingyu look back at him. His eyes soften, just a little bit.

"I don't know," Mingyu says, offering a hand towards Junhui. Junhui takes it and lets himself be pulled up into a sitting position. "Haven't seen him before."

Junhui nods, and looks down at their hands, still holding onto each other. The magic from earlier has broken, and disappears all together when Mingyu lets go of his hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
"You and Mingyu," Jisoo says with a soft voice, waking Junhui up from his thoughts. He blinks and turns his head to look at the older. "Huh?"

"I mean," Jisoo sighs, putting down the knife he was sharpening, "It's not really my business, but what's up with you two?"

"...me and Mingyu?" Junhui repeats dumbly, and grimaces internally at the pointed look Jisoo gives him. Of course Jisoo has noticed; he always notices everything. Junhui doesn't know if he should be thankful or irritated.

"It's..." he starts, not knowing how to finish it. What's up with them? What are they, even? He thinks of how he's been thinking Mingyu only cares for him like for all the other members, and then he thinks of how Mingyu nearly kissed him back in the park, of the way Mingyu always seems to find his way close to him - but also sometimes draws away.

This morning, he woke up with Mingyu's arms around him again, even though he had fallen asleep alone because it's now warm enough to sleep on your own. The couch was small and narrow, and he could see that Mingyu's sleeping position was far from comfortable, but he couldn't also ignore the fact that Mingyu was smiling in his sleep.

He had spent at least half an hour wondering what Mingyu was dreaming of, if it was him, because he dreamed of Mingyu all the time. Then he had told himself he was being ridiculous and untangled himself of Mingyu's arms, leaving him to continue his sleep on the couch alone.

"It's complicated," Junhui finally says. He doesn't know about Mingyu, but at least to him it is. Jisoo hums, ruffles Junhui's hair and then leans closer to him to whisper, "He's staring at you."

Junhui's heart jumps to his throat and he whips his head to the side, eyes immediately meeting Mingyu's from across the room. A heated blush rises to his cheeks, from embarrassment, from the way Mingyu just keeps staring at him, and he hears Jisoo snicker behind him.

"Shut up," he hisses at the older, tearing his gaze away from Mingyu to cool himself down.

"I didn't even say anything," Jisoo says, and Junhui glares at him. It does nothing, obviously, Jisoo just smiles at him and raises an eyebrow as if to prove his innocence.

When Junhui a moment later glances back to where Mingyu is sitting, the younger is discussing something with Wonwoo, and he tells himself he's overthinking again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Everyone has bad days. Junhui has bad nights. Several of them in a row.

He lies awake, the mattress or the couch or whatever he happens to be sleeping on way too uncomfortable and hard. It's either too cold, or too hot, and he tosses the covers back and forth, sticks one leg out, pulls a pillow over his head, kicks the air and bites his lower lip until it's bleeding. Sometimes he has a headache, sometimes he feels dizzy and his head is spinning, sometimes his stomach hurts, and sometimes, sometimes nothing is wrong but he just can't sleep.

So he overthinks. About himself, about Mingyu, about _Seungkwan_ \- and he doesn't even know which is the worst. Because, of course thinking about Seungkwan makes his eyes sting and makes him want to throw up like that day, and he's digging his nails in his own arms and asking himself _just why did it have to be Seungkwan, why couldn't it have been me, Seungkwan had so much to live for and I have absolutely nothing, why am I still here and he's not and Hansol is hurting and-_

but on those nights that he thinks about Mingyu, he goes through a rollercoaster of emotions, smiling and wanting to laugh to feeling terrified and wanting to just leave the building and throw his body in the Han River, because it would be better to just drown in actual water instead of his own imagination. And he finds himself being selfish again, because why would it still be worse, when Seungkwan is actually dead and Junhui is alive, breathing and lying under the covers whereas Seungkwan is lying under too many feets of soil pressing against his small body.

And Junhui should be thankful, that he still has a chance to live even though his friend, his brother, doesn't, but he feels awful instead. He wonders how Hansol is feeling, if he sometimes spends his nights overthinking too. However, he never asks, because it's like there's an invisible wall stopping him every time he tries to.

So, one day when he's pulled an all-nighter again, and he's sitting on the floor of the bar trying to sharpen a knife but it's not working because his eyes aren't able to focus, he asks that from Mingyu instead.

Mingyu looks at him, gentle and beautiful, places his warm hand on top of Junhui's cold fingers and leans closer. "Sometimes, yeah," he says, "but rarely. I actually sleep well, mostly."

Junhui doesn't know what it is, maybe he's just too tired, but he sobs as he looks back at Mingyu. "I do that all the time," he chokes out, and Mingyu pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him, radiating warmth.

"It'll be alright," he says, and Junhui breaks down, the feelings he's been bottling up every night so he won't suddenly let them out escaping, and he cries on Mingyu's neck until he can barely keep his eyes open and his hold on Mingyu's shirt slips.

Mingyu comes to bed with him that night, pulls Junhui to his arms and runs his fingers through his hair until he falls asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
"Seokmin, you take the food," Seungcheol instructs, and the said boy nods, disappearing to the backroom with a backbag seconds later. Junhui scrunches up his nose and turns his head to look at the eldest.

"Why won't you let me come along?"

"Because we need at least two people to take care of things here while we're gone," Seungcheol sighs, obviously tired for explaining the same thing over and over again. "You and Mingyu work well together. Is there a problem with you staying with him?"

"No," Junhui says, "But-"

"Then stop whining. We have to get going so we'll be able to actually do something while there's still daylight."

Junhui bites his tongue to stop himself from saying something he's going to regret and sits down, crossing his arms like a sulking child. Wonwoo passes him, and actually dares to laugh at him, and he's close to kicking the other in the shin when Mingyu's voice distracts him.

"You've always gone there, it's about time you stay home for once," the younger grins at him, sliding in the booth he's sitting in. "Or is it that bad to stay with me?"

Junhui rolls his eyes at that. "You know that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"He thinks he's been put into a low position because he's not allowed to go," Jisoo comments as he passes by, stepping to the side to escape from Junhui's annoyed kick.

"That's not it, either," Junhui mutters, glaring daggers at the back of Jisoo's head as the older makes his way to Seungcheol.

"Really?" Mingyu asks, leaning his elbows on the table and raising an eyebrow when Junhui looks at him.

"Yes," Junhui says. "It's just because it's boring to stay home."

Mingyu's face, for some reason, lights up at that, as if Junhui dying of boredom was a great happiness to him. He leans over the wooden table, lips twitching into a crooked smile, and Junhui tries to appear unfazed as he stares back at him.

"I'll make it not boring," Mingyu says, and Junhui doesn't even have time to wonder what he means when Seungcheol announces that they're leaving.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
It's a thing they do twice a year; every May and September. Most of the members leave the city to go for a hunt to get food, and possibly also other supplies, while a few of them stay home to take care of it.

The last time Junhui was one of those to stay home was at least four years ago, and he doesn't like it at all, because back then he was forced to stay home since he was so young. And, yes, Jisoo might have been right; he feels like he has fallen down the rank since he's forced to stay home again.

(Not that their team even has any kind of a rank, but Junhui needs to protect his pride.)

There is also something about staying alone at home with Mingyu, something that makes him both excited and nervous. It feels like his stomach and chest are bubbling constantly, and every time Mingyu comes closer to him, the bubbles increase.

"It's getting dark," Mingyu says, even though it's obvious, because there are windows all around them and it's already nine in the evening.

"Yeah," Junhui says, taking one last sip of the water before deciding he's finished with his meal. He puts the water bottle down on the counter and hops down from the stool. "I still wish I could've gone with the others."

"Right," Mingyu hums as he follows Junhui to the second floor. "I was supposed to help you not feel bored."

"You're not doing that very well," Junhui teases, glancing back at Mingyu from over his shoulder. The younger snorts, and then makes his way to the same stairstep Junhui is standing on. His arm circles around Junhui's waist, and their bodies press closer to each other.

"I haven't even started yet," Mingyu whispers, and Junhui barely has the time to register what's happening when they're already kissing.

Mingyu's lips are rough, but still so sweet, and his hand is hot on Junhui's lower back. The kiss starts out slow and careful, but when Junhui responds, it builds up passionate and quick. Junhui's hands find Mingyu's shoulders, and then his soft hair, fingers tangling in the dark locks.

When they break apart, Junhui is shaking, the whole room is shaking because he's so dizzy and out of breath, and he feels warm and cold and hot all at once. Mingyu is breathing heavily, lips brushing against Junhui's cheekbone as he presses even closer.

And the next second they are stumbling down the stairs, hands grapping the wall and each other's clothes to not fall. When they finally find their balance again, Junhui presses his back against the wall for support and looks up at Mingyu with wide eyes. Mingyu responds with just as shaken look, blinking. "I," he says, and then the corner of his lips twitch. "I slipped."

"Of course," Junhui says, but he can't really be mad, not when they're so close to each other and Mingyu is looking at him with that dumb smile, obviously trying not to laugh. "God, you're an idiot," he sighs then, and Mingyu doesn't have any time to protest because he kisses him again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Junhui wakes up the next morning with Mingyu's arms wrapped around him, both of them squeezed together on a mattress meant for one person even though the others are still not back and they could've easily slept on a bigger, more comfortable bed. His lower back is aching and his skin is sticky and dirty against Mingyu's own, but he couldn't literally care less.

The hotness, however, is something he can't get over with, so he carefully moves the covers down to their hips and lets the gentle brush of air to cool him down.

What now? He wonders, his face pressed close to Mingyu's chest as he breathes in the other boy's scent. What are they now?

_The "I love you" he heard Mingyu whisper last night, was it real or just his imagination?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

Complicated, is what they still are, or at least that's what Junhui himself tells Jisoo again when the others are back home.

Complicated, because neither of them knows how to talk about it. And without talking, it's obviously hard for both of them to know what the other thinks or feels.

Complicated, even though every time Junhui turns his head to look at Mingyu from across the room, the younger is already staring back at him, and even though they find themselves making out with each other more and more often, whenever they're safe from others' eyes.

Or that's what they've been thinking.

There's at least three feet of unnecessary air in between them as they sit on another makeshift bed on the second floor, Seokmin on Mingyu's other side and Chan on Junhui's other side. It's another one of those so called family nights, when they decide to just take a break from everything and talk about things while eating more than they can afford. On those nights, they can all almost forget about the mess of a city and world outside of their home. Even Hansol laughs at stupid stories every once a while.

Mingyu has one of those fluffy blankets the others found on their trip spread on his long legs. Junhui watches him soothe the material with his hands while he's talking to the others.

"Mingyu, you're soon going to rub a hole through the blanket," Wonwoo laughs, seemingly noticing the same thing. Mingyu blinks, looking confused for a second before breaking into a smile. It's so bright, Junhui thinks he's going to get blind for looking too long.

"But it feels so nice, I can't stop touching it" Mingyu explains, hugging the blanket to his chest as if to prove his point. "It's so soft."

There's a moment of weird silence until Wonwoo leans forwards to the direction Mingyu is sitting at and raises an eyebrow. "Junnie must feel quite soft then, too."

Junhui chokes on thin air as soon as the comment leaves the boy's mouth, coughing loudly as his face flushes bright red. Jihoon snorts from the other side of the bed, and Chan makes a similar noise from in between him and Junhui.

"Good one," Seungcheol says without any shame, and Junhui would go and punch him in the face if he wasn't already busy with trying not to die of embarrasment. He glances at Mingyu, only to see the younger's face being a similar color of red as his, and his mouth opening and closing several times in a row.

"What," Mingyu starts, his voice high and squeaky. He clears his throat loudly before trying again, "What are you implying?"

"Well, looking at you both blushing like fourteen year olds, I think it's quite obvious what I'm implying," Wonwoo says, straightening his back and crossing his arms. Actually, Junhui would be more glad to punch him instead of Seungcheol.

"What do you know?" He hisses from between his teeth. Wonwoo shrugs his shoulders, unimpressed. "We all know you two have been fucking each other."

"We haven't," Junhui says, exactly at the same time with Mingyu. There's an amused expression on Wonwoo's face, and Junhui decides that he needs to go before he really throws his fist on the said boy's face. He gets up and storms towards the stairs, making his way down so fast he almost slips a few times.

He steps outside, slams the door shut so hard he's sure everyone hears it, and then slumps down to sit onto the porch.

The others weren't supposed to know - Junhui has been fine with Jisoo suspecting something, but the fact that everyone knows - and Wonwoo just blurting it out like that, why would he do that and make it even more awkward, even more complicated?

Harshly rubbing his red cheeks with his hands, he sighs loudly and shoots his gaze up to the late evening sky. God, he's overthinking again. He needs to stop that.

The door creaks open behind him, and he looks back to see who it is - and of course, _of course_ it had to be Mingyu.

The younger stands there, barefeet just like Junhui, still holding that stupid blanket and looking just as confused as Junhui feels, as if he has no idea on what he's doing there.

"I'm not angry at you," Junhui manages to say, and Mingyu's face seems to light up a little. He steps forwards and sits down next to Junhui, shoulders and thighs pressed together.

"...are you angry at Wonwoo, then?"

Junhui thinks for a moment. "No," he says then. "I'm angry at myself."

Mingyu frowns. "Why?"

"Because," Junhui starts, turning his head so he's properly facing Mingyu. "Because, I haven't had the courage to ask you...about what we are?"

"What we are," Mingyu repeats, and then he presses even closer, his hand grasping Junhui's chin. "Would you mind if I said that you're mine?"

Junhui's heart stops for a second, and then it starts beating so fast it feels like it's going to explode. He swallows, trying to keep his eyes focused on Mingyu's eyes as he leans closer. "I don't know," he whispers shakily. "I wouldn't, if I can say that you're mine, too."

Mingyu says, "I've always been yours," and then he presses his lips on Junhui's.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @bbyhuis


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